Night. Inky darkness seemed to pour in through the windows, broken only by city lights shining from far below and the immense twinkling of the stars above. Quiet steps echoed slowly through the penthouse; a soft padding, the sound of carefully placed bare feet on the wooden flooring. The sounds of passive snoozing leaked from behind the slightly closed bedroom door, evidence of an exhausted and extremely worn out dreamer making use of the room's enormous California king size bed.
She reached upward smoothly with one manicured hand and pulled a few strands of long blond hair back from her face. Reaching the window, she aimed her eyes upward at the stunning night sky momentarily before peering downward at the bright cityscape of Las Vegas below. The city that never sleeps. Where dreams can come true.. Or collapse around you. The city has it's risks.
She leaned forward onto the window sill, her naked breasts packed tightly between her arms. If cleavage could shine, she'd have been lighting the whole city. The cool air tickled her bare pussy, the residual moisture of the past few hours' activity evaporating lightly off her well-used and mildly sore pussy lips. Goosebumps rippled across her legs, bringing her a slight shiver. But she kept her composure.
She thought back on what had just transpired in the bedroom. It was a weekly ritual for Saturday night... And yet, each experience was utterly unique and special in its own indescribable way. This was the life she led; adventurous, mysterious, ever in motion yet firmly steadfast. Thus was the life she had chosen. Was choosing. Was living.
Slowly she turned and retreated back to the master bedroom, where her ward for the night lay sleeping. Reaching out, she brushed open the door with her fingertips, a slight *creak* sounding as she made her way into the room.
She gazed upon the naked figure reclining on her bed. It was so dark that he could barely be seen - his ebony skin blended into the night, making the details of his form difficult to distinguish. But she had spent so many nights with black men that her eyes had learned how to examine their bodies in the darkness. The trick was to identify the soft shadows and contours of their bulging muscles, outlining their outstanding physiques and illuminating the length of their hard black shafts. It was a skill, one lovingly acquired over many years of experience.
Her eyes moved slowly over Trevor's dozing body. The blankets and sheets had been crumpled and sent to the floor in the heat of their passion, now leaving her ebony buck uncovered as he slept. She looked Over his body, hard and muscular. She remembered the feeling of his pecs in her hands as he pounded her missionary style, his long black cock plundering her deepest recesses with reckless abandon. She looked over his prodigious cock as it lay satisfied over his thigh, flaccid yet still meaty. Light played off it teasingly, revealing every proud black and veiny inch even in the darkness. Black men always stayed a little firm after having multiple orgasms, and Trevor had been no different. His vocalizations had impressed her: he yelled so powerfully during their first orgasm that she was sure some of the other top-floor tenants heard him too. Not that it bothered her. The thought of others being exposed to the their earth shaking sex whether they liked it or not turned her on.
Her lips formed into a satisfied smile as she took a seat on the nearby couch, stretching her naked legs onto the cushions luxuriously. She reflected on her experience with Trevor and settled on a feeling of approval. As the Matriarch of the Black Cock Club, it was her duty to put each potential bull to the test. But it wasn't entirely just duty; it was her prerogative. She had the right of prima nocta with every black stud brought into the club. She would writhe naked on top of them and push them to the limit, furiously milking their big black cocks with long stokes of pussy until their balls burst with seed, coating her innermost temple with an offering of potent ebony sperm. Then, she would get under them while they proved to her that they had the stamina and endurance to please a hungry woman, the power to place her into submission to the raw sexual energy of the black cock. Even as Matriarch, she could not withstand the onslaught of a powerful black rod. She would work them until she had no choice but to submit to them, giving them access to each and every crevice of her curvaceous female form for their pleasure, and their pleasure alone.
Of course, none ever failed. She was an expert in filtering out losers and wannabes. By the time she was tasting their enormous black shafts for the first time, she had already determined that they had what it took to join the Black Cock Club as featured bulls. Her judgment was impeccable. Its a myth that all black men are sexual gods. Its her responsibility to find the ones who are and bring their talents into her coven.
Mistress Blackcock leaned back onto the couch and shut her eyes briefly as she imagined all the Sisters - her "Daughters" - of the Black Cock Club who had spent the night having their pussies turned out by ripped black Studs. She imagined the experienced acolytes who had been members for years, experts in the way of pleasing the black pole. She could almost taste the cumloads that she knew a multitude of experienced women had ******* deeply of that very night in the tower. Alternatively, she envisioned the newcomers who had arrived for the first time that night - nervous women whose expressions betrayed feelings of both terror and curious excitement. They knew what they were arriving for. By this hour, they had discovered the secret magic of what the Black Cock Club offered to the Daughters of Mistress Blackcock.
In particular, the Mistress recalled seeing one very nervous woman that evening - an Asian, with black hair and porcelain skin - being led by the hand toward the bedrooms, a large and strong young black bull leading the way. The woman wore only a thin nightie, her slender body swaying as she walked on heels toward Her black destiny. She was clearly new to the experience and nervous of what would happen when she choclate-coated her soft truffle. The thought made Mistress Blackcock smile.
She took it upon herself to introduce the magic of black cock to women throughout the world. Mistress Blackcock had a mission, and it gave purpose to her life. It gave nourishment to her soul. And it gave unending amounts of pleasure to her bulls And Daughters alike.
But Mistress Blackcock had one more secret that she was not prepared to share with anyone - not even her most trusted bulls or Daughters. No, nobody could ever know. She understood that resolutely.
She looked back at Trevor, examined again his hard body and thick cock. As she watched, she saw it twitch. Ever so slightly. She looked up at his face and saw a light smile as he slept.
This made the Mistress smile.
CHAPTER 1 COMING SOON...
**Want to read more? Leave a like or a comment. I lose interest if people don't seem to like it, so let me know!**
She reached upward smoothly with one manicured hand and pulled a few strands of long blond hair back from her face. Reaching the window, she aimed her eyes upward at the stunning night sky momentarily before peering downward at the bright cityscape of Las Vegas below. The city that never sleeps. Where dreams can come true.. Or collapse around you. The city has it's risks.
She leaned forward onto the window sill, her naked breasts packed tightly between her arms. If cleavage could shine, she'd have been lighting the whole city. The cool air tickled her bare pussy, the residual moisture of the past few hours' activity evaporating lightly off her well-used and mildly sore pussy lips. Goosebumps rippled across her legs, bringing her a slight shiver. But she kept her composure.
She thought back on what had just transpired in the bedroom. It was a weekly ritual for Saturday night... And yet, each experience was utterly unique and special in its own indescribable way. This was the life she led; adventurous, mysterious, ever in motion yet firmly steadfast. Thus was the life she had chosen. Was choosing. Was living.
Slowly she turned and retreated back to the master bedroom, where her ward for the night lay sleeping. Reaching out, she brushed open the door with her fingertips, a slight *creak* sounding as she made her way into the room.
She gazed upon the naked figure reclining on her bed. It was so dark that he could barely be seen - his ebony skin blended into the night, making the details of his form difficult to distinguish. But she had spent so many nights with black men that her eyes had learned how to examine their bodies in the darkness. The trick was to identify the soft shadows and contours of their bulging muscles, outlining their outstanding physiques and illuminating the length of their hard black shafts. It was a skill, one lovingly acquired over many years of experience.
Her eyes moved slowly over Trevor's dozing body. The blankets and sheets had been crumpled and sent to the floor in the heat of their passion, now leaving her ebony buck uncovered as he slept. She looked Over his body, hard and muscular. She remembered the feeling of his pecs in her hands as he pounded her missionary style, his long black cock plundering her deepest recesses with reckless abandon. She looked over his prodigious cock as it lay satisfied over his thigh, flaccid yet still meaty. Light played off it teasingly, revealing every proud black and veiny inch even in the darkness. Black men always stayed a little firm after having multiple orgasms, and Trevor had been no different. His vocalizations had impressed her: he yelled so powerfully during their first orgasm that she was sure some of the other top-floor tenants heard him too. Not that it bothered her. The thought of others being exposed to the their earth shaking sex whether they liked it or not turned her on.
Her lips formed into a satisfied smile as she took a seat on the nearby couch, stretching her naked legs onto the cushions luxuriously. She reflected on her experience with Trevor and settled on a feeling of approval. As the Matriarch of the Black Cock Club, it was her duty to put each potential bull to the test. But it wasn't entirely just duty; it was her prerogative. She had the right of prima nocta with every black stud brought into the club. She would writhe naked on top of them and push them to the limit, furiously milking their big black cocks with long stokes of pussy until their balls burst with seed, coating her innermost temple with an offering of potent ebony sperm. Then, she would get under them while they proved to her that they had the stamina and endurance to please a hungry woman, the power to place her into submission to the raw sexual energy of the black cock. Even as Matriarch, she could not withstand the onslaught of a powerful black rod. She would work them until she had no choice but to submit to them, giving them access to each and every crevice of her curvaceous female form for their pleasure, and their pleasure alone.
Of course, none ever failed. She was an expert in filtering out losers and wannabes. By the time she was tasting their enormous black shafts for the first time, she had already determined that they had what it took to join the Black Cock Club as featured bulls. Her judgment was impeccable. Its a myth that all black men are sexual gods. Its her responsibility to find the ones who are and bring their talents into her coven.
Mistress Blackcock leaned back onto the couch and shut her eyes briefly as she imagined all the Sisters - her "Daughters" - of the Black Cock Club who had spent the night having their pussies turned out by ripped black Studs. She imagined the experienced acolytes who had been members for years, experts in the way of pleasing the black pole. She could almost taste the cumloads that she knew a multitude of experienced women had ******* deeply of that very night in the tower. Alternatively, she envisioned the newcomers who had arrived for the first time that night - nervous women whose expressions betrayed feelings of both terror and curious excitement. They knew what they were arriving for. By this hour, they had discovered the secret magic of what the Black Cock Club offered to the Daughters of Mistress Blackcock.
In particular, the Mistress recalled seeing one very nervous woman that evening - an Asian, with black hair and porcelain skin - being led by the hand toward the bedrooms, a large and strong young black bull leading the way. The woman wore only a thin nightie, her slender body swaying as she walked on heels toward Her black destiny. She was clearly new to the experience and nervous of what would happen when she choclate-coated her soft truffle. The thought made Mistress Blackcock smile.
She took it upon herself to introduce the magic of black cock to women throughout the world. Mistress Blackcock had a mission, and it gave purpose to her life. It gave nourishment to her soul. And it gave unending amounts of pleasure to her bulls And Daughters alike.
But Mistress Blackcock had one more secret that she was not prepared to share with anyone - not even her most trusted bulls or Daughters. No, nobody could ever know. She understood that resolutely.
She looked back at Trevor, examined again his hard body and thick cock. As she watched, she saw it twitch. Ever so slightly. She looked up at his face and saw a light smile as he slept.
This made the Mistress smile.
CHAPTER 1 COMING SOON...
**Want to read more? Leave a like or a comment. I lose interest if people don't seem to like it, so let me know!**
very cool
